The Little Black Dress

by Linda Palund

  “What do you want, asshole?” grumbled the coach.

  “I want you to pull over and give yourself up.”

  “Oh, it’s you, Daddy. Look, if you want your son alive, you’re going to let me get across the Mexican border.”

  “You’ve got my son?”

  “Oh yes, I certainly do.”

  “Let me speak to him.”

  “I’m afraid I can’t do that. He seems to be sleeping.”

  “Is he all right?”

  “Oh yeah. Your baby’s just fine. Now, pull your guys off and let me go on through, if you want him to stay that way.” By then, numerous highway patrol cars were entering the freeway behind the Hummer, and it looked like he was some kind of celebrity with a police escort.

  “No deal. You let my son out first—and alive, before you cross the border.”

  “That’s your deal? What do you think? I’m crazy? I’ll drop your boy off in Tijuana after I cross the border, and if you want him alive, I don’t want any funny business with the border patrol. You call ahead and have them let me through in one of your special law enforcement lanes. I’m not stopping until I’m past the border, then I’ll let your boy out.”

  “Unharmed.”

  “Well, you know it’s kind of bumpy riding back there.”

  Seth must have woken up then, because Captain Greenberg heard something that sounded like a groan and then “Shut up back there. Can’t you see I’m on the phone? See, Captain, your boy’s just fine. Do we have a deal? ’Cause I’m gonna have to merge onto this next freeway, and your patrol cars are in my way.”

  “You know this isn’t going to work. You should give yourself up. Pull over now.”

  “Look, Daddy, if you want your little boy back home safe and sound, I suggest you just do as I say. How about that?”

  “All right. Let me have a minute. I’ll keep the patrol cars back. I can see you heading toward the I-5. We’ll keep tabs on you, but we won’t try to stop you.”

  Seth’s dad hung up, and poor Seth just rattled around in the back of the Hummer. He wasn’t gagged, so he tried to reason with the coach, but the coach had attached his handcuffs to the side of the Hummer, just close enough so he could reach his arm around and punch Seth whenever he wanted. So after a while, Seth shut up and prayed.

  Meanwhile, Seth’s dad did exactly what the coach asked. He ordered the patrol cars to continue to escort the Hummer to the Mexican border without any interference and to pull back as soon as the border patrol was in sight. He called the governor’s office and the border patrol arranged for the Hummer to pass through the border without stopping and made no attempt to interfere with the coach’s vehicle. Then he called some old friends of his from Texas narcotics who used to work undercover in Tijuana.

  CHAPTER 31

  THE ARREST

  WENDY AND I had been dutifully waiting in her car all this time, watching the change rapidly taking place at our school. Students suddenly began milling around the common areas, and no one seemed to be going to class. Then eight policemen marched our way from the direction of the gym. In the middle of the police group and towering above them all was Luke Ritter. With all the melee going on around him, he looked strangely subdued. His head was bowed, and he just shuffled along, surrounded by the entourage of police officers; gone was his usual swagger and that cocky grin.

  “Let’s take a closer look. I’m sure it’s safe now!” I said to Wendy as I bounded out of the car. I wanted to see him close up.

  A mass of bewildered high school kids were following close behind them, but we were already in front and had the best view. I ambled as close to the police cars as possible. Sure enough, I could tell Luke’s hands were cuffed behind him, and it actually looked like he had been crying.

  Wow, I thought to myself as they opened a police car door and made him lower his head, like they do, so he wouldn’t bump it getting in. Four of the policemen kept the crowd back, but I could see the vice principal moving forward, shaking his head with a look of befuddlement on his face. And that’s when my phone rang.

  It was Seth’s dad. “Lucy, we’ve arrested Luke Ritter at the school, and I think you’ll be safe now.”

  “Yes, I can see. It’s happening now. We’re watching them drive him away as we speak. But where’s Seth? Did you arrest the coach?”

  Seth’s dad made a barely audible sigh because there was so much wind noise in his helicopter and shouting in the background. “The coach has Seth.”

  “Oh no!”

  “He’s got him with him in the Hummer. I’m in a police helicopter just above his van, but I’m going to have to let him cross over into Mexico. He promises to let Seth go after he crosses the border.”

  “Oh my God, is Seth all right?”

  “I think so. I certainly hope so. Listen, I just thought I’d let you know. I’ve got to go now. They’re almost at the border now. Be safe!” And he hung up.

  “The coach has Seth!” I said to Wendy, but I was already crying, remembering the horrifying photographs from the autopsies we’d seen and hoping Seth wouldn’t share the same fate as my beloved Carmen.

  “Oh, Lucy, that’s awful. Please don’t cry. I’m sure he’ll be all right!”

  “He’s a hostage now,” I managed to say between sobs. “The coach is using him to get into Mexico. But there’s no telling what he might do to him—or what he might have already done to him. He’s a monster.”

  Wendy put her arm around me and led me back to her car. We didn’t even bother checking in at the school. It was pretty much mayhem out there, anyway. And I just wanted to get home. Maybe there would be something on TV about it. I was so worried for Seth. He knew the brutality the coach was capable of. Poor Seth must have been terrified for his own life. I had no idea at the time that he was already bruised and bleeding, handcuffed to the back of the coach’s Hummer.

  “Let’s go to Angela’s house,” I suggested, after we ducked back into her car. I had stopped crying now, and I could think again. “She should know what’s going on, if she doesn’t already. We might as well let her know and we can watch the news on the TV from her house. We can call our moms from there.”

  “Okay,” said Wendy, and we streaked out of the parking lot behind the police cars, heading back up Wilshire to Bel Air.

  It seemed like ages since I last saw Angela, but it was really only a few days. Still, she was completely surprised to see the two of us outside her front door in the middle of a school day. That didn’t stop her from greeting us with her usual warm Southern hospitality, and I filled her in as I led Wendy down the hall to their familiar living room and turned on the TV; I had been a fixture in the house for so long, it was like a second home to me.

  “Oh, Lucy,” Angela said, “I don’t know whether to be happy or sad. It’s so good to know they’ve arrested someone, so now we can finally find out the truth, but your poor friend, I just hope he’ll be all right. Poor Captain Greenberg. This is just crazy!”

  The local TV stations had already picked up the story. Channel Four’s “Eye in the Sky” helicopter was following the police helicopter with Captain Greenberg inside, and they already had downloads from kids’ cell phones showing the arrest of Luke “Skywalker” Ritter at the school. It looked like the police had just strolled into his homeroom class and walked out with him. He didn’t put up any resistance. It was as if he had been expecting it.

  The Eye in the Sky helicopter showed the coach’s Hummer as it approached the Mexican border. You could see all the black-and-white patrol cars pulling over before they got to the border. Ahead of them was a line of border-patrol vehicles that seemed to be guarding an opening for the coach to drive through. It was on the very right-hand lane alongside the border-patrol building, but no barricades were up, and we watched in amazement as the Hummer drove right on through.

  They were in Mexico.

  CHAPTER 32

  THE DUMP SITE

  “ALL RIGHT, Boehm. You’ve got what you wanted. Let my son go
now.”

  “Just hold on a minute, Daddy. Don’t be impatient. I need to put a few more miles between me and the border.”

  “I’ve kept my promise.”

  “And I’m not in Tijuana yet.”

  Captain Greenberg thought he heard some muffled groans over the noise of his helicopter, which was now hovering back over the border.

  He heard the coach shout, “Shut up back there.” Then he thought he heard a thumping noise, and the phone line suddenly got quieter.

  “You better not have hurt my son!”

  “Don’t you worry. Daddy’s boy is just a bit of a baby, aren’t you, kid?” There was another groan and a thud, which was much more audible now. It took all of Captain Greenberg’s self-control to keep from ordering an attack at that moment, but he knew he had to be patient, and all he could do was hope for some tiny shred of mercy or decency at the core of this man; there was no alternative. He had to wait.

  Operatives in unmarked cars followed lazily behind the Hummer, reporting its progress, and then, just before the Tijuana city limits, they watched while the coach pulled the Hummer over. He got out of the car, opened the back door, and climbed into the Hummer. He uncuffed an unconscious Seth and literally kicked Seth out the back door. Then he jumped down beside him, and gave the unconscious boy a few more kicks for good measure. The operatives had to sit back helplessly and watch as the coach opened his fly and took a leak all over Seth’s back. A few seconds later, they watched him get back into the Hummer and head toward Tijuana. Then they moved in to rescue Seth, radioing for the ambulance that was already waiting at the border.

  CHAPTER 33

  GETTING HIS OWN BACK

  CAPTAIN GREENBERG received the report from his men at the border right after they radioed for the ambulance. Seth was alive but severely battered, with several broken ribs and a broken nose; he was a sorry sight and in a lot of pain, but he would recover. They’d taken him to Scripps Mercy Hospital in San Diego. Seth’s dad called his wife immediately, and she was already on her way. Then he called me.

  “Seth’s safe, Lucy. He’s all right.”

  “He isn’t hurt? He’s okay?”

  “He’s a little worse for wear, but he’ll be okay. He’s already in the hospital in San Diego. His mother’s on her way down there now.” Even over the clamor inside his helicopter, I could hear the relief in his voice.

  “God. I’m so relieved,” I said, and tears were already flowing down my cheeks while Angela and Wendy looked on with big eyes, waiting for the news. “What about the coach? Did you get him?”

  “He’s in Mexico now. But he won’t be for long. I’ve got men working for me on the other side of the border, Lucy. He’s not going to get away with this, believe me. I’ve got to go now, but I’ll let you know when he’s in custody. Relax, but if you like, you can call Seth’s mother. Do you have her cell phone?”

  “Oh yes, thank you. I will, and maybe we’ll drive down there to see him if that’s all right. Thank you so much for letting me know.”

  He hung up and let the helicopter take him directly back to headquarters so he could question Luke. On the ride back, he telephoned his Texas undercover buddies, Reuben and Carlos, who were now in Tijuana. They were on the case already and had the coach in their sights.

  Later, they gave Captain Greenberg a full report of what transpired in Mexico. This was a report that would never be filed in the case notes, but he told Seth as soon as he was able to sit up and listen, and of course, Seth told me as soon as we had some private time together in the hospital.

  The agents spied the coach’s conspicuous Hummer parked in a lot behind a big tourist hotel in downtown Tijuana. Cocky as usual, he didn’t seem to think he had anything more to fear from the authorities.

  That’s why he looked completely surprised when the two huge mean-looking Mexicans kicked down his door, overpowered him with an electric shock baton, and tied him to the hotel bed with gaffer tape after taping his mouth shut, of course. While he was unconscious, the two undercover cops repaired the door as best they could, then called down for room service. They gave the steward a substantial tip and drank champagne and ate lobster salad on the coach’s tab.

  When the coach woke up, he was naturally furious, but the cops were unfazed. Reuben gave him another shock with his baton, a lighter shock this time, just enough to hurt him but not enough to knock him out, and the two agents began to debate the advantages of various kinds of torture: finger breaking, nail pulling, cigarette burning, kneecapping, castration. All in front of a now-terrified coach. Afterward, they took turns beating him with their batons until he passed out again.

  While he was unconscious, Carlos went down to the pool for a swim while Reuben kept watch. After his swim, Carlos felt hungry again, so while he took a leisurely shower in the room’s commodious en suite, Reuben ordered two club sandwiches from room service. When the coach woke up again, he saw the two men smoking serenely, having just finished their meal. The cigarettes gave him pause, and he tried frantically to wriggle out of the gaffer tape and made sorrowful unintelligible noises behind his gag, so the cops decided it was time to turn him over.

  “Sorry, big fella,” Reuben said as he shocked the coach back to unconsciousness; then they carefully unwound him from the tape, turned him over, and bound him again, leaving his buttocks free. Then they pulled down his pants.

  “God, what a hideous mother!” Carlos grumbled.

  “The things we do for Greenberg,” Reuben said, shaking his head. Then he went down for a swim while they waited for the coach to regain consciousness.

  When Reuben returned, the coach still hadn’t woken up, so they checked to make certain he hadn’t smothered with his face in the pillow. He hadn’t smothered, but they decided to remove the pillow and placed it under his hips to give themselves a better target.

  “What do you think? Should we burn him a bit before the finale?” Carlos asked.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Maybe we should start now. It might wake him up. I’d like to get this over with soon. I told Maria I’d take her to the movies tonight.”

  “Yeah, okay, Carlos. You’re right, it’s getting late.”

  The coach woke up as soon as they stubbed the first cigarette out on his buttocks. He was wriggling around so much it was hard to get a good aim, but they didn’t want to knock him out again. Pretty soon the smell of his sizzling flesh became too nauseating, and they had to stop and walk out onto the balcony for some fresh air and to discuss which one of them was going to deliver the finale.

  “Jeez, he’s so ugly, and it already smells like shit in there.”

  “We promised the captain.”

  “Yeah, I know you did, Reuben. So, will you do it to him, then?”

  “Okay, okay. I’ll do the honors. I think you’d better come in too, though. I might need your help.”

  “Jeez, do I have to?”

  “Come on, Carlos. Don’t be such a girl.”

  When they returned to the room, the coach was wriggling around even more frantically and moaning into the mattress. The two men stood on either side of the bed. Reuben had picked up his baton and begun to adjust the charge.

  “What do you think? Three or four, maybe?”

  “I don’t know, Reuben, we don’t want to make too much of a mess and we have to get him out of here afterward. Maybe just two. I think he’ll get the idea even if you turned off the thing.”

  “Three, then. The captain wants an experience this piece of shit will never forget.” And with these words, Reuben inserted the charged baton into the coach’s rectum while Carlos held him down. Even with the gag, the coach’s screams were louder than they expected. Reuben shoved the baton in as far as it would go, and the coach passed out.

  “I think he got the idea, don’t you?” Reuben remarked. He removed the reeking baton and sauntered off to the bathroom to clean up.

  The two men had brought along a full-length terrycloth robe, the kind the hotel might have p
rovided for its guests, and after unwrapping the coach from the bed and rewrapping him so that his arms were pinned to his sides, they clothed him in the robe, put a sun hat over him, and injected him with just enough phenobarbital to keep him unconscious while they took him down the service elevator and out to the coach’s own Hummer. They drove him back to Los Angeles and parked the Hummer in Silverlake, not too far from police headquarters, and informed Captain Greenberg of the location. Reuben tossed his baton into the nearest dumpster, and they drove back to Mexico.

  Later on, Reuben told Captain Greenberg that Carlos made it to the movies that night with Maria. He took her to see Pulp Fiction, which Captain Greenberg thought was an interesting choice. Evidently, Maria didn’t like it very much.

  CHAPTER 34

  CONFESSION

  “I’M SO sorry about your friend,” Angela said, offering me a pretty lace-edged hanky to dry my tears with. “But he’s going to be all right. This whole awful ordeal is going to be over at last. And, Lucy, you helped the police solve this. You really did!”

  “Yeah, but my help nearly got Seth killed.” I felt terrible, yet elated. “Oh, but I’m so glad he’s all right.” I wiped my eyes and turned to my mom, who had begun rubbing the back of my neck for some unknown motherly reason. “Mom, is it all right if Wendy and I drive down to San Diego to see Seth right away? I can’t bear to wait any longer.”

  Angela had called my mom as soon as we had turned on the news. My mom then called Wendy’s mom to reassure her we were both all right. When my mom explained what was happening, Wendy’s mom gave permission for Wendy to spend another night with me.